


Georgina And The Dragon

by tielan



Series: Watch The Queen Conquer [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 17:42:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9560006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: Her brother is right: Luna Pentecost always wanted to be the one to slay the dragon.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The first in a number of short vignettes about the women of Pacific Rim. There will be at least one more in the series, we'll see about the rest.

Fifteen minutes after the call for volunteers, Luna Pentecost is watching the flight commander hesitate over calling her name and Tam’s for the squadron.

Fuck this for a game of soldiers.

“Sevier and I are qualified,” she says, clear and loud into the sudden silence of the pilots gathered, waiting for their chance at the monster outside. “More qualified on the Lightning than your flyboys here. Do you want the best out there, Kimball, or are you worried about preserving the penis-only club while Godzilla takes out San Francisco?”

He glares at her as the boys’ club rumbles behind them. “We do things differently out here, Cockney—”

“We’ll all die the same,” Luna tells him with all the calm she’s gathered over years of being dismissed, patronised, and paternalised. “You asked for the best flyers from the RAF, Commander. You got them. Question is, are you going to use them?”

It’s a risk – a big one, a calculated one. She’s putting her career and Tam’s on the line with this challenge – and God knows they’ve got it hard enough being the split-tails who fly machines that are all about the macho. But this is a big situation, and it needs big risks. Air and sea defences are scrambling, nobody knows where this thing came from, and millions of lives are at stake.

The question is if this white dick walking is going to shoot them down so his penis doesn’t feel threatened.

She sees the moment she’s lost her gamble against the balls-only club. It’s in Kimball’s eye, even as his lip curls, and his expression takes on an all-too-familiar sneer.

“Lieutenant Pentecost.” The voice is deep as the ocean, steady as the sea, and it draws the attention of the room as a magnet draws iron filings.

Luna draws herself up and salutes Brigadier-General Trey Marten, base commander of Vandenburg AFB. “Sir.” Beside her, Tam is similarly saluting, chin up, shoulders back.

“You and your partner are authorised to fly in Operation Trespasser,” he says, and the dark eyes fix her with a warning and a blessing both, even as Kimball’s lily-white face convulses in an outrage he swiftly restrains. “We want the best out there.”

The compliment – understated and absolute – soars through her soul, ferocious as the feeling of wings. “Thank you, sir.”

General Marten barely acknowledges her thanks, but flicks a finger at Kimball. “Carry on, Major. You’re running out of time.”

Tam cuffs her on the shoulder as they jog to their lockers. “Good job.”

Her heart is pounding in her ribs as she grins at her bestie. “Lucky.”

“Yeah, that, too.”

They change fast – too many years of jokes about how long women take to get ready – and are out on the tarmac before most of their fellow pilots.

Their maintenance chiefs meet them on the tarmac with the checklists for their F-36s; and Luna looks it over, listening with one ear to Joey ‘Jocka’ Mazoni’s report on the maintenance, and nodding at appropriate intervals. It’s all clear, and they hand the tablets back and head out for their cockpits where their flight techs have their ladders waiting.

“Hey, you remember _Independence Day?_ ” Tam asks with a bright gleam in her blue eyes.

Luna barks a laugh, already knowing what her bestie’s thinking. “That piece of shit? Think about this, Tam: if I’m Will Smith, then you’re Harry Connick Jr.”

“Right. Calling takebacksies.” Tam bumps her shoulder, friendly-like, as Luna’s phone rings in her pocket. “And that’ll be Stacks. Say hi for me!”

It’s Stacks, all right. Never mind that she’s looked after herself for a bunch of years; never mind that she’s a grown woman. Inside the military officer is still the boy who burned down a nightclub because the owner threatened his mum and sister.

“You just want to slay the dragon.”

“Damn straight,” she tells him. “Look, I can’t talk long, we’re heading out. I’ll see you when we’ve kicked this thing’s arse back to wherever it came from, okay?”

“Give it an extra boot for me.”

“Will do. Take care of yourself, Stacks.”

“You, too, Luna.”

She hands the flight tech her personal effects and takes her helmet. “Thanks, Sabs.”

“Good luck out there, Pentecost.”

And then the canopy’s sealed and she initiates communications, and reviews the checklist while powering up. The report over the airwaves indicates the monster has reached the shallows and is wading up towards the Golden Gate bridge, and traffic is at a standstill as the city tries to evacuate and fails.

“Fifteen minutes,” Luna murmurs as her systems come online and the flight checklist shows green all across the board. “Just give us fifteen, Godzilla, and we’ll kick your ass into next week.”

“Ready for some dragon slaying?” Tamsin asks over a private channel.

“Tam, have you been sharing the brain with Stacks again?”

“Stacks knows you. I know you.” She can almost see the shrug as she notifies control that they’re ready to go. “I’m the fire eater, you’re the dragon slayer. This is how we roll.”

Her radio crackles. “Pentecost 122-PYR, you are cleared to join the queue for takeoff.”

“Copy that. You cleared, Tam?”

“I’m cleared.”

“Let’s blow this monster stand!” She grins as the engines kick into fierce fire and bright life.

 


End file.
